WHERE THIS SITE BEGAN

I was once told that writing, for me, is like going to church.

The fiction stories I would write as a child, started to sound more and more like my own life as I got older. I was the main character in my own story. I wrote about runaways, sword fights, adventure. I realized that from a young age I felt that I needed to be a fighter. When you spend your time fighting, you also want freedom. I wanted to be strong, I wanted my characters to be heroes because in reality I felt very small and weak. I wrote about running away into the woods because a part of me deep down felt I needed to be alone to feel peace, and to feel understood.

I thank writing for giving me the ability to work through the many avenues that exist in my mind, and give me the chance to reflect at a pace that helps me to understand myself, my thoughts, and feelings a little better.

I put myself in a vulnerable position at age 17 when I began publishing my mental health story. It has allowed me to connect with special human beings going through hard things, as well as connecting with other writers, introverts, spoonies, trauma survivors. I used to write anonymously, and while I don’t share everything, I have gained courage through the years to share who I am. Honesty and vulnerability make room for connection.
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This is my virtual home, my journal, and a raw look into the complex mind of a young person who feels things deeply. I always write for me first, but since you’re here- thank you for stopping by.
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